Cait and the Devil (27 page)

“I am. I’m afraid I’ve been an absent, neglectful mother to you. I thought it was better that way, but perhaps I was wrong. You must forgive me if you can find it in your heart. I would like us to be friends.”

Cait
fell silent again, thinking, untangling. She was safe. It was not a dream. Duncan was returning soon. She could hear the shouts of Lord Douglas’s
men,
hear the clanging metal and the violence outside.

“It will be all right,” the woman assured her. “They will prevail.”

They would prevail. She had a mother. This woman was her mother. At last the tears came.
Edana
took her in her arms and rocked her gently.

“When will he return?
When?”
Cait
sobbed.

“Hush now.
Soon.”

* * * * *

The raid was over in minutes. His father’s men died violently, like the beasts they were. A few cowards scattered, outlawed, into the woods. Duncan’s men found Lord Douglas passed out over his cup at the table. They
trussed
him hand and foot and brought him before their lord. Even in his dire position, the old earl sneered at him.

“Are you sure you want her back, Duncan? I believe you may find her changed. She is not quite
so
pure as I found her, but a great lot more obedient and demure.”

Duncan didn’t flinch, just kept cleaning the blood from his weapon. His men ranged around at an appropriate distance, ready to help if needed. But they knew this was a confrontation Duncan needed to settle on his own.

“Changed?” Duncan echoed quietly. “She is the same. The same sweet woman she was when her mother brought her to this world. I think it is you that has changed.”

“Me? Yes, I have changed. I’ve become much more miserable since I met your harlot of a wife, whiling away my time here at this deserted keep with only her skinny, worthless body to pass the time—”

“I never knew you to love a woman,” Duncan interrupted.
“Too high and mighty, too manly to stoop so low.
All that nonsense.”

Lord Douglas laughed wildly. “I have never met a woman worthy of love.”

“Until you met my wife.”

“Disgusting, petty creatures, all of them.
Vain and inconstant and only good for one thing.”

“Good for one thing? I’ve heard that for a lifetime, but I don’t think that’s what you really believe. I think you destroy whatever is innocent and good because you are so vile and worthless in your own eyes and the eyes of everyone who knows you—”

“You are an idiot, Duncan,” said Douglas, forcing a smile. “You will never understand.”

“Did you rape my own mother, you
blackhearted
devil?”

“Perhaps I did. What difference does it make? She was only a woman, like all the other useless women on earth.
Just one more sluttish female to beleaguer the male species.”

His voice fell silent as Duncan braced his sword a hair’s breadth from his neck. “Not one more word.”

“Will you kill your own father? You haven’t the nerve. You’ve always been soft, too emotional and womanish for your own good. You call yourself a soldier, but you’re no better than the weak, brainless slut who bore you.”

“You will not compel me to kill you quickly, old man. I know what you’re about. No. I think you will be made to suffer just as she did. A few cuts, a certain organ of yours mutilated beyond repair. Some blood to draw the wolves from the woods.” He looked around thoughtfully, considering. “I’ll have you staked to the front of the cottage. That would be best. I hope you survive for days, and I pray you die sensible with the teeth of wild animals at your throat.” He lowered his sword, signaling his men. “But I cannot stay to enjoy your demise. I must take
Cait
and our babe where they will be safe.”

“
Our
babe?
The babe is mine, Duncan. She told me.”

Duncan laughed, shaking his head. “Caitlyn is ignorant in these things. She always has been, and perhaps always will be. But I tell you, the babe is mine. And while it unfortunately has your blood as well, I hope
Cait’s
goodness will finally overcome that taint.”

He turned his back on his father. He’d seen enough of his evil face to last a lifetime. He would not have the murder of his father on his soul, devil though he was. But he would see that it happened just the same. He would leave it to his men and their own outraged fury, and take Caitlyn far away from here, and pray she could forgive him for the unspeakable evil he’d brought to her life.

“He is yours,” he said to his men, who hovered impatiently to wreak revenge on behalf of their lady. “Take your time about it, and don’t be too kind. As for me and my wife, we return to Inverness at once. It’s possible his screams for mercy could disturb her,” he added as an afterthought. “Wait just a while until we are away.”

* * * * *

Cait
leaned back against Duncan, listening to his steady heartbeat. His arms were wrapped tightly around her and his hands rested on her as he held to the reins. He seemed unwilling to let her stray even an inch from his body. When she shifted, his arms tightened to pull her closer again. It took until nightfall to reach the keep on horseback.
Cait
slept through most of the journey. At the keep she was handed over to Henna, who fussed and keened in her ear.

“Oh, child, how can you ever forgive me?” she wailed, wringing her hands.

Cait
was so tired she barely heard her, but Henna’s hands were gentle and soothing, and for that she was grateful. The women took her torn clothes and shoes and burned them at Duncan’s command. They bathed her in warm, scented water for over an hour, washing her hair, tending her smarting cuts and bruises. Henna and
Edana
put warm scented salve on the worst ones and covered them with clean linen bandages. When she was nearly asleep, they laid her in bed.
Duncan’s bed.
She was not too sleepy to realize that. He paced and hovered, coming in and out of her line of sight as the women examined her.

“The baby lives,”
Edana
finally said. Duncan exhaled in relief. “You are four months along,
Cait
, if not more. It is not Douglas’s child. This child was conceived of your husband long before that blackguard stole you away.”

It is not Douglas’s child.
It is not Douglas’s child.
Cait
smiled. It was their child, half-Duncan, half-
Cait
, just as it should be. She wanted to tell them how happy she was, how pleased, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was, “I’m tired.”

“You must eat,” said Henna. “Do not sleep until you’ve had a good meal. Think of the babe.”

Her eyes closed as she felt Duncan’s arms come around her. She didn’t need food or drink. She just needed him.

* * * * *

Duncan looked down at his wife’s exhausted features. He could feel her body relax into sleep.

“Poor creature,” said Henna.
“Poor, poor creature.
She’ll never forgive me. She won’t. She shouldn’t!”

“She will,” said Duncan. “She would never blame you. Knowing
Cait
, she blames herself for all of this.” He brushed her damp hair back from her cheek. “I am the one to blame. This was
all my
fault.”

“I will stay,” said
Edana
suddenly. “I will stay some time and help her heal.”

Henna and Duncan exchanged glances. “There is no need,
Edana
. Henna can tend to her.”

“I mean her mind, not her body. Her mind is unwell. As is yours,” she added, looking at Duncan. “I will stay until I know my daughter is better.”

Duncan frowned.
“As you wish.”

“I will not steal her away from you, if that’s what your dark looks are all about. She possesses more power than I suspected, but the life of a priestess is not for her.”

“Power?”
Duncan echoed. But looking down at her in his arms, he knew exactly of what she spoke.

Chapter Sixteen

Duncan jerked awake to the sound of
Cait’s
screams, and gathered her up for the second time that night.

Edana
had been right.
Cait’s
mind was troubled, even though she tried to pretend she was perfectly fine. Little by little, after sleep and healing, she had risen from her bed and gone about her life with an endearingly plucky determination to “forget about that horrible man.” By day she did many of the same things she used to. She roamed the town, tended the gardens, even walked on the beach. But at night, it was clear to Duncan that she still suffered. At night, when she slept, Lord Douglas came to her in her dreams.

“
Shh
,
shh
..”
he crooned, waiting patiently for her to stop struggling, to realize it was him holding her and not his father. As soon as she did, she curled against him with that familiar relieved sigh.

God, he hated that she hurt.

Edana
had left recently, promising to return at high summer for the birth of the babe. He had to admit she had been very wise at healing. She had spent long hours talking and bonding with her daughter.
Edana
was responsible for the positive changes he saw in
Cait
, the new confidence and strength of will. He knew
Edana
was no small part of the reason
Cait
seemed so calm and adjusted after her ordeal, at least during the day. It was certainly no doing of his. He had been so agitated and cowed by the damage done to her he had avoided her, giving her over to
Edana
every morning in relief. Henna slunk about as guiltily as Duncan. But
Cait
, she was so strong. She took it all in with clear eyes and an innocent heart and truly seemed content to let it all go.

Until she slept.

Their nights, which used to be a dream world of intimacy and pleasure, were transformed into trials for them both. He could not even think about reaching out to her in lust, although he burned beside her as he always had. She awoke with screams, and he awoke with an intense arousal that he did his best to hide. Her body tempted him mercilessly. Her curves rounded out as she regained her appetite and the sickness of her early pregnancy eased away. There was a pronounced curve to her belly now that he longed to kiss and caress, and her breasts...they would fill his hands if he could only touch them as he craved.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t touch her in any way that a man touched his woman. He couldn’t bear to touch her and feel her pull away from him in disgust, or even worse, fear. So they went on much as they had in the beginning, him avoiding her as much as possible except in the night, when they lay miserable and uneasy next to one another in bed.

He had wanted to ask
Edana
her advice, but in the end he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t admit that he even desired to use his wife, much less ask her advice on how best to go about it. No, he couldn’t. For now, he would have to go without. He didn’t deserve her anyway.

And she was pregnant, he reminded himself. The only thing that was important right now was
Cait’s
well-being, her health and the babe’s. If and when his wife ever wanted him again in that capacity, she could make the overtures herself.